


And His Heart Wavered

by kayura_sanada



Series: Souls Made of Dream and Idea [2]
Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: (he does that), Because it's Solas, F/M, Mental turmoil, Post-In Your Heart Shall Burn, Pre-Romance, Solas' Thoughts, Worry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-23
Updated: 2016-04-23
Packaged: 2018-06-04 01:35:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,724
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6635686
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kayura_sanada/pseuds/kayura_sanada
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Solas waits to see if the Inquisitor survived Haven.</p>
            </blockquote>





	And His Heart Wavered

He couldn't breathe deeply.

They'd left her behind. It had been at her order, and at the time, they hadn't thought she wasn't with them. It had only come later, as they'd turned back, to find she wasn't among them. He and Blackwall had stopped, unsure, but Cassandra had said, “we must keep going,” and Solas had heeded the Seeker's words.

Now, however, as he stood watching over the camp of survivors as the Chantry members desperately tried to heal all they could, as the uninjured built a quick fire for everyone to rest before they inevitably headed out again and Cassandra called a rescue effort for the Herald, all he could think was that they'd left her behind with Corypheus.

In the back of his mind, his thoughts raced on how to fix this if the worst had come to pass. How could they deal with the rifts still open across Thedas? How could they defeat Corypheus if the Inquisition faltered? Without its Herald, without the Anchor, what were the chances of success? The final calculations all ended the same: poorly.

But in the forefront of his mind, he saw the woman who had looked at her hand upon their meeting and stated with relief that she could, indeed, help. He saw the woman who dared call the wrath of a pride demon despite having just recovered from near-death. He saw the woman in Haven who smiled and flushed slightly as she asked if he was insinuating she was graceful. The one who stared wide-eyed at his stories of the Fade. The one who called spirits people and marveled at the idea of a world without a Veil.

Despite himself, despite the cause he knew he must fight for, he did not want her to die.

He dared search along the edges of the Veil, to stretch his mind as far into the Fade as he could while maintaining a small semblance of wakefulness. It left his body leaning heavily on his staff as he consulted the few friends he could find so close to the edge of the Veil, the ones who hadn't been pulled through by a Rift. Yet. They said they could see the Mark, still, but it was not moving. When Solas pulled himself back from his dreams, Cole, sitting by Chancellor Roderick as he faded closer to death, maintained that he could not hear her. It was maddening. His worry was even enough to have Cole's gaze follow him as he traversed the makeshift camp.

The rest of her allies did as they could. Blackwall found more sticks and branches for the fire, though most would likely be abandoned or saved for the next camp; the blizzard, mixed with the snowdrifts caused by the avalanche, was becoming too strong for most of the party to safely endure. But it was a way to keep busy, and it wasn't long before The Iron Bull was doing the same. His Chargers tended to the wounded and sick as best they could. Vivienne stood by Cassandra, ordering about the Chantry members and mages alike, turning them to healing or to building up small tents as necessary, to keep the worst of the injured from taking ill, as well. Even Sera was doing her part, rallying up the scared children and getting them to play with her.

He, meanwhile, sought for answers he couldn't find. Every time Cassandra turned her gaze to him, he could only shake his head, and she would turn away, frustrated and resigned. Especially as Leliana and Cullen demanded she stay with them, that a party only be sent out after they'd found a more permanent resting place, farther from Haven, where it was safer.

The fury and regret beat heavily against his chest. After all, none of this would have happened if he hadn't allowed Corypheus to claim his orb.

They moved again, forced to rest a second time. Blackwall had carried most of the kindling he'd found before, making the fire much easier to start the second time around. People huddled before it, even as Cullen warned against making it too large. The dragon Corypheus had called upon them had stopped its furious cries long ago, but that didn't mean they were safe.

Solas' chest tightened with every step they took from Haven. He wished he could go and search properly for the Herald, but Haven was gone. Lost beneath the snow the Herald herself had called down. People were already crying for the loss. Small groups prayed feverishly for Andraste to preserve them, to guide the Herald, to keep her at her side. Many more asked why the Maker had taken her. Had her job simply been to close the Breach? With it sealed, was the Herald no longer needed? And what were they, then, to do about the Elder One?

For his part, he just wished she was still alive. Even though, in the end, it would have changed nothing.

Still, when Cassandra made the argument for staying near the ruins of an old stone building, he pushed to do the same. He named the weariness of the people, but really, he wanted the chance to ask his friends once more about the Herald's fate. The Iron Bull and his Chargers went out to search for food while securing the area. Dorian and Blackwall worked together, for once without bickering, to set up the tents so that the Chantry sisters could care for the wounded without battling the elements. Solas stood off to the side, already attempting to clear his mind and enter his dreams once more. Distantly, he heard Cassandra and Cullen begin to organize a search party.

Minutes passed. He slipped deep enough into dreams to see the expanse of the Fade before him. A few demons called to him, foolish enough to think he would fall for their tricks after so much time. He searched for a spirit of hope, or virtue, or curiosity. One which would have been lured by the Mark, and then closer by the person it was attached to. He found one, finally, only to see it staring into the distance, its gaze focused on that which he could not see. Not yet. “Pride,” it said, and smiled. He smiled back.

“I come for a favor, friend,” he said, moving to stand closer to it. All around him, water trickled down rock after rock, splashing each time it fell through the air. Spare drops slipped off the edges of floating stone to the ground below, spots of barren wasteland around the false grass pasture. “I seek the one bearing my Mark.”

“Then search no further,” Curiosity said, waving a hand just beyond them. “For it comes to you.”

He gasped. _“Ma serannas,”_ he managed, and blinked open his eyes. The night had come upon them hours before, the updrifting snow calmed, the blizzard gone. It made it easy to spot Cullen and Cassandra as they led a small group back toward their second campfire, ostensibly to find their Herald. He moved to join them, only to hear Cullen shout out that he found her. She'd managed to follow after them.

Before he knew what he was doing, he was racing up to meet them. “She's fallen!” Cullen said, and Solas' heart slammed into his throat. He crested the rise and saw her for himself. Her skin was pale, almost as pale as the snow, her lips blue and chapped, her nose and ears tipped with the cold. Blood coated the left side of her leather armor. But small plumes of white puffed the air around her mouth, and he breathed a sigh of relief. “She needs to get close to the fire,” he said, though it was likely everyone present already knew that. He helped Cullen lift her and carry her to a tent close to the warmth of the flames. Mother Giselle hurried forward. Solas forced himself to back away and let the sisters work.

His heart thudded in his chest as he watched everyone hurry about, the broken lifelessness of the camp resurrected into an almost frenzied energy. Pinga – the Herald – shifted on her cot, her blond brows furrowing as she struggled back to consciousness. He found himself edging closer and forced himself to move away, to the edge of the camp, as far from her as he could be and not leave the camp entirely.

He had a mission. Yes, Corypheus' actions had thrown them into a tailspin, but that didn't change the end result. He would end up destroying this world. These people. This woman. No matter how surprising or stimulating he found her, she would just be another of his victims and nothing more. Even if she listened to him speak of the Fade with nothing but wonder in her eyes. Even if she listened to her allies, considered carefully her options. Even if she did something so insane as to listen to an old elven woman and return her husband's ring to her, even as the Hinterlands fell apart and she needed to make finding a horsemaster her priority. Even if, when she brought flowers to an elven woman's grave, she knelt before the stone and recited an old elven poem for the lost, even though there was no one to impress.

There was a light in her. One he didn't want put out. One he didn't want to lose.

“Hey, Solas!”

He turned. Varric ran up to him, his feet making long trails through the snow. “Come on. The Herald's up; she wants to tell us what happened.”

She was awake. He hardly heard anything else Varric told him; it was of utmost importance that he go to her. Despite telling himself to stay away, he once more rushed to her side. He nearly shoved his way into the tent, heedless of Blackwall stepping back or The Iron Bull keeping to the side, arms crossed as he partly guarded the tent from eavesdroppers. And then he saw her eyes, those bright indigo irises blinking blearily as she focused past her pain, and everything stilled. His heart, hammering so loudly in his chest, finally calmed. He breathed out one long, cool breath, and found the next much easier to breathe in.

She caught his eyes and smiled, and he was lost.

**Author's Note:**

> Ma serannas - My thanks (thank you).


End file.
